


Mean Ghosts

by BookOfThoth



Category: Necromancer Club
Genre: Gen, skeleton mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-18
Updated: 2015-05-18
Packaged: 2018-03-31 04:43:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3964816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BookOfThoth/pseuds/BookOfThoth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Why is Tolfdir taking so long? Where is Steve's computer? Can Ragnarok speak?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mean Ghosts

This is a oneshot for my friend Julie’s birth. It’s not a fandom yet, but visit necromancerclub.com and start following, and it will be. So, without further ado, I present to you…

MEAN GHOSTS

“Where the fuck is Tolfdir?” Akatosh fumed outside the entrance to the cave, talking to the air. “And where’s Ragnarok? Those two went out to get the uniforms cleaned hours ago!”

Intern Steve coughed loudly behind him, interrupting the club leader’s train of thought.  
“Umm… Akatosh? I don’t think they ever left. I saw them heading toward the supply closet right after you told them to leave. I mean, I could totally be wrong about that, but they’re definitely in the back room.”

_In the closet._ Akatosh was surprised that he could even be surprised anymore. Snails would make more competent necromancers than those two. He sighed in Steve’s general direction before marching back into the cave. _Those bastards were going to die,_ Akatosh thought. _Again._

“Also, have you seen my computer,” Steve called from behind, “I think I left it here after the bake sale or whatever, and finals are coming up so…”  
The intern trailed off as Akatosh moved out of sight.   
“Sure, Steve.” He muttered to himself. “Of course I’ll help you, Steve.”

It took Akatosh exactly ten minutes to make his way to the storage closet. The usually short trip had been hampered, because the floating skull kept getting in his way. Akatosh was certain that the skull was a skeleton spy, but Tolfdir’s love for his ‘hat rack’ prevented Akatosh from destroying the damned thing. Besides, what necromancer in their right mind would actually touch a skull?

Eventually, though, the skull floated away, clearing his path. Akatosh glared harshly into the skull’s empty eye sockets before walking past. Oh yeah, that thing was getting dealt with real soon. Right after he finished dealing with the two morons who had disobeyed him.  He made the rest of the way to the closet with increasing rage.

When he got there, he could just make out the sound of Tolfdir talking. Akatosh didn’t bother opening the closet’s door. He set it ablaze with an incantation. He could hear the other club members scream from the inside. He strode through the smoking remains of the door and stared down his ashen-faced acquaintances. Tolfdir and Ragnarok stood side by side, practically clinging to each other.

“Look what you made me do,” Akatosh growled. “This door was mahogany. And I just burned it down. Because of you. This is why we can’t have nice things, dumbasses. I’m honestly so done with you right now. I can’t even. Oh my GOD!”

Akatosh turned away from his fellow necromancers for a moment before turning back around.

“Did you at least get the uniforms cleaned?”

Ragnarok said nothing and elbowed Tolfdir. Tolfdir said nothing and elbowed Ragnarok. Ragnarok looked at Tolfdir. Tolfdir looked back. Akatosh seriously considered sending himself to Hell. It couldn’t have been worse than this.

“Will someone just tell me what you did?” Akatosh screamed.  
“Well,” Tolfdir said cautiously, “We didn’t get the uniforms cleaned. But we did get something else to wear. Show him Ragnarok.”

The tiny wizard rummaged through his cloak for a few moments before pulling out what looked like a stack of pink towels. Tolfdir pointed at them proudly.

“New t-shirts!” he said, grabbing one and holding it up.  
Akatosh read the shirt skeptically.  
“Why,” he asked, “Do they say ‘Mean Girls’?”

“You can’t just ask someone why their t-shirt has words on it.”  
“I just did, Tolfdir. Now tell me.”  
“It’s a movie. A really good movie. And we bought t-shirts for it.”  
“So you’re telling me that you blew the club’s bake sale funds on movie t-shirts? Does your stupidity know no bound?”

“tlmtdnsist” Ragnarok mumbled.  
“What was that?” Akatosh wheeled on the other sorcerer.  
“The limit does not exist!”  
“Okay,” Akatosh sighed.

He couldn’t deal with these two right now. He didn’t have the patience to kill them. He just wanted them gone.  
“Get out.”

The two necromancers hurried through the wreckage of the door before Akatosh could change his mind. Behind where they had stood was Steve’s computer. Akatosh looked at the screen for a moment, and decided that their next club activity would be banishing that machine to Hell. The film on the device looked like some stupid high school story anyways. It definitely was not worth Tolfdir’s reckless spending of Necromancer Club funds.

Akatosh clicked play, just to prove to himself that the movie was dumb. One hour and thirty seven minutes later, Akatosh decided not to it. Instead he walked outside and gave Steve his computer back. Coincidentally, at that time, Tolfdir was hit by a cursed bus. He didn’t die, but it did make Akatosh feel a little better.

 


End file.
